Catharsis
by pretense
Summary: There was a time he hated him, then came the time he wished he did.


**Title:** Catharsis, or I only fell because you pushed me but it was the only way  
><strong>Summary:<strong> There was a time he hated him, then came the time he wished he did.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> implied rape, dubcon, slight s/m, crappy ending.

* * *

><p>Their story started when everything was doomed to end, when Luke had realized that his entire life consisted of one bad decision after another. Case in point: when he propositioned the son of Poseidon to join his cause and ended up starting a whole different agenda altogether.<p>

Luke should've known better than to kiss Percy Jackson, to force his tongue inside that pretty little mouth, to devour every delicious whimper – he should've known that he'd get addicted.

He should've seen the warning signs: when those small hands stopped pushing him away, when those plush lips opened wider to let him in, when lust overcame the anger in those green eyes. But the thing is he didn't, he didn't notice a thing because he'd been too busy ruining the precious golden boy of the Olympians. That was his plan anyway; another thing he didn't expect was for it to backfire horribly.

In cheap motel rooms, in vacant back alleys, in the Percy's own room – Luke wasn't picky where he took the boy; and Percy was indeed nothing more than a boy. He cried when Luke first took him, hands against his back, face pressed into the mattress, Luke played deaf to his screams of pain.

Luke liked inflicting pain, he got off on it, he made it a point to be as rough on Percy as possible. He bruised him just enough to hurt, placing his marks on all those hard to reach places, places where no one would think of finding a scar, where they were hidden but still cause a twinge every so often. Luke loved to hear Percy's cries – they started out as pitiful pleas for him to stop but it didn't take long for them to be begging him for more.

Percy became the one to seek him out. He would arrange for them to meet, it was up to Luke whether he'd show up or not but Percy waited every single time. One time Percy waited for an hour but Luke still hadn't arrived. Percy resorted to touching himself, making the best use of his imagination, when a hard smack hit him across the cheek. Luke had showed up and he was livid at Percy for starting without him. He refused to touch the boy in any case.

'Play with yourself, Percy,' he sneered, sitting down at the foot of the bed. 'Since you've been having _so much fun_ without me.' He watched with demeaning eyes as Percy fucked himself on his own fingers, not responding as the bright-eyed boy begged for just one little kiss. Luke didn't budge as Percy crawled over, taking every inch of his cock in that hot mouth and sucking him into hardness. The only movement Luke made was lying onto his back and putting his hands behind his head; he kept still as Percy rode him all night.

Somehow their arrangement, their filthy little secret, it lasted for two years – they _forced_ it to for two years. It worked in the way that once the door was locked, once they've gotten to their secluded corner, once the perimeter was secure of any other life form save for themselves – they were everything but themselves.

Luke was good at pretending, and apparently, so was Percy.

The last time they had each other was on the eve of Kronos' rise from Tartarus. The last place Luke had him was in the Poseidon Cabin itself. Percy was fresh from the shower when the son of Hermes teleported in – suffice to say, he didn't find the need to get dressed.

A heady sort of urgency thrummed in their veins, neither one held back as if they both knew what was bound happen tomorrow.

Pink-nearly-red bruises decorated the boy's creamy skin but the groans that left his lips were of pleasure rather than pain. His knuckles were deathly white with the grip that he had on the sheets. Luke's name was a constant presence in his breathless litany as the man's strong tongue pushed deeper inside him, licking out what might've been two or three orgasms' worth of semen from his hole.

Saying 'please' never worked so Percy did his best to endure, keeping his dry humping of the mattress to a minimum – he wasn't allowed to come until Luke said so.

Finally – _finally_ – Luke flipped him onto his back, those eyes of cutting ice bored into him and Percy shivered, he was so hard that it actually hurt. Luke raised a hand, one finger extended, and he traced around Percy's nipple, teasing the dusky nub before drawing a path down to the boy's erection. Luke smirked, watching a pearl form and slide down the flushed shaft. He leveled his face with it, eyes flicking up to meet Percy's nearly delirious gaze.

'Do you want to come on my face, Percy?' Luke asked, breathing hotly on the boy's member.

Was that a trick question? Percy whimpered, long lashes fanning over sweat-covered cheeks. 'I – I don't know.'

'You've been such a good boy I feel I should reward you with something,' Luke continued, one hand flitting over the dark trail of hair leading to the boy's crotch. 'You know, I actually think I'd _like_ for you to do just that…'

Percy lost it at being given permission. All it took was a touch of Luke's finger and he was ejaculating, silvery threads painting that handsomely devilish face. He lay boneless for a minute, catching his breath, half-lidded eyes watching Luke's every move.

Long fingers swiped the sticky substance off the tanned face and Luke took them into his mouth – moaning sinfully around his digits as though he was partaking of the sweetest delicacy in the world. Luke hummed in what could've been content, shifting closer to settle beside the other demigod.

Green eyes stared. 'You, um, you missed–'

'Would you get it for me?' There's a dark shine in Luke's eyes as he moved nearer, one hand gripping Percy's waist possessively.

'I – yeah…'

Luke didn't blink as Percy leaned over, moist red lips sealing over his jawline as a hot and wet tongue licked its way to his earlobe. He secured his hold around the boy's waist, hefting the smaller one on top of him.

'Luke–!' Percy's whole expression showed shock with a little bit of anxiety mixed in. Luke was never one for post-sex intimacies.

'Sshh,' Luke appeased, the thick white scar on his cheek was slowly covered in shadow as he pulled Percy's face over and kissed the boy deeply.

Something was very wrong with the picture, everything was wrong with the picture.

'Is this goodbye?' Percy asked as he found himself being displaced. His side gently hit the mattress but he kept his arms around the man's shoulders.

A long, hard stare was what he got but the fire was out in Luke's blue eyes; Percy didn't need any other answer.

He shifted closer, trembling hands caressed the handsome face that captivated him all along. Luke didn't swat his hand away and that was what scared him most of all. 'I don't want you to go,' Percy whispered. 'Luke, I–'

'Don't say it, Percy,' Luke warned, the steely edge was back in his tone but it was minimal. 'Don't.'

Percy said it anyway and Luke promptly vanished from his bed.

At the Battle of Manhattan, when the Titan army clashed with the forces under the Olympians there was a sense of defeat that seemed impossible to ignore.

The promise he'd broken, the one he'd made long ago to Annabeth, was what had Luke taking control of his own body. Of course, the daughter of Athena had figured the prophecy out but it was still up to Percy if he'd get the happy ending. That is, if he even wanted it.

Luke turned and collapsed, hands ruined from trying to raise Kronos' scythe from the burning hearth. His eyes were a disastrous mix of gold and blue as he stared up at the son of Poseidon. 'Please, Percy,' and that was the only time he'd used the word in relation to the boy – no, not a boy now but still. 'Give me the knife… Only I can… Percy…'

It was a struggle for the boy (he's much older now but still) to move closer, even with Achilles' curse Percy felt the battle damage done to his body but he persistently staggered towards the blond. Staring down at Luke's anguished eyes, Percy said those words again.

A tear rolled down the scar on Luke's cheek as he accepted the knife. With great difficulty, he undid the clasp of his armor and positioned the bronze blade under his left arm. His eyes were more blue than gold when he met Percy's eyes for the last time.

'I wish it had been different, too,' Luke whispered around the lump in his throat. Then he struck his own mortal spot and a blinding flash of light filled the throne room. He had to close his eyes.

There was a clang of celestial bronze at the same time that his back hit the earth. A dull thud echoed but it wasn't enough to overcome the sounds of woodland noises – the rustle of trees, the chirping of birds, the serene trickle of a nearby brook, the ringing silence brought about by two dozen people suddenly holding back their breath.

"I'm sorry!" a distressed voice called and Luke was suddenly aware of another person running to his side. The aura of the guy reached out to him, it was familiar, it made him feel safe. A shadow blocked the early morning sun from his face and Luke blinked his eyes open.

"Sorry?" His scarred face broke into a grin. "By the gods, Percy, why are you sorry?"

The boy's face was flushed but his green eyes were bright and full of life. He instantly dropped the practice sword in favor of helping Luke get on his feet.

Light blue eyes reminiscent of summer skies stared at the Cabin Eleven campers gathered in the arena, they ended back on the twelve-year-old boy standing beside him still holding his hand. Percy was biting down on his lip, looking guilty for some reason.

"Let's see that disarming technique again," Luke said and this time he easily outmaneuvered the younger demigod.

After a long pause of silence, someone from the stands asked, "Beginner's luck?"

"I don't think so."

There was such certainty in Luke's voice that Percy shuffled his feet feeling a bit overwhelmed. His eyes grew wider as Luke whispered something in his ear at the end of the lesson.

Canoe Lake was quiet on Friday afternoons. The naiads were doing underwater basket weaving and every once in a while they waved at the lone boy who sat on the pier.

Percy absently thumbed the searing hole on his t-shirt courtesy of the climbing wall's lava mode.

"Put your hand in the water," a confident voice spoke from behind him. Luke was striding up the wooden planks, idly swinging his sword along the way but he sheathed it just before he sat down beside the boy. "Seriously, it'll help the burn."

It's with a little hesitation that Percy followed the teen's order. His surprise was insurmountable when the cool water wrapped around his forearm of its own accord, healing the singed appendage. "How did you – that – how–" Percy turned a flustered expression on Luke. "What just happened?"

Luke smiled at him, carding one hand through the boy's messy black hair. "You'll know soon enough but I've got something else to tell you…"

"What could be more important than explaining what that was?" Percy asked lips pouted and for the first time Luke restrained himself from kissing the boy senseless.

His hand left the boy's hair and cradled those pale cheeks that colored bright red at his touch. Luke leaned over to whisper into Percy's ear, "We can save your mom."

Small hands gripped his shoulders as Percy tensed beside him. He leaned his head against the boy's and closed his eyes, breathing in deep.

"I know who the Lightning Thief is…"


End file.
